


Soon It Shall Be

by diggingthegrave



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diggingthegrave/pseuds/diggingthegrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently the Galabella fandom was lacking more... mature work.<br/>So I provided it.<br/>Smut. Galabella smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soon It Shall Be

It's not like she hasn't seen him naked before. No, wait, it's not like she's seen him naked _naked_ , but they have spent so much time together that she’s seen him bathe, or shirtless, or refreshing himself with a bucket of water when the heat of the day and the exhaustion of the training was too much to bear ( _damn_  still the most appropriate word that comes to mind), but this…

This is a whole new level. 

This closeness, this sense of intimacy, it's… intimidating, to say the least. She’s never noticed how small she is – or rather, how tall  _he_  is – until she's standing right in front of him, her eyes on his chest (god, what a broad chest), and her hands are stroking up and down, fingers brushing and tangling around the little hairs there. He's surprisingly soft, his skin smooth and warm under her touch, and she can't help but blush. 

Now that's something you don't see the Valencian princess do very often. 

She handles herself around guys pretty damn well thank you very much (even if she's never actually went all the way with any of them – they only wish), but Galavant is not like anyone she's ever met before. Her sense of pride still burns in the pit of her stomach (how can such an insufferable man make her feel like fireflies are twirling underneath her skin?) but she knows him, the _real_ him, the one she took too long to admit her feelings for, and now he's here, flickers of the dim light in the room making his exposed torso glimmer and the smell of him is just a little too overwhelming. 

No, not  _that_  kind of smell. This smell is making what it feels like liquid heat pool low in her belly. 

Then his chest rise and fall beneath her palms and only now she notices he's breathing; he’s actually there, looking at her with that expression she's grown so accustomed to but now with something else there – something she's not used to yet but she's sure she'll grow to like it. 

And then he  _grins._

“Is everything alright, princess?”

She inhales – deep – and drops her gaze to the floor, shaking her head with something that looks like dismissal. He chuckles, and reaches to clutch at her elbows with strong, steady hands. 

Her voice cracks when she lets out a shaky  _yes._

His expression shifts then – his features are tender, his lips curved into the sweetest of smiles, and when he's parting them to try to say something the words get lost in the tip of his tongue because she's standing on her tiptoes, her mouth latched on the hollow of his throat. 

His breath catches for a moment and it's her time to grin, letting her palms slide up, up, until her fingers grasp the back of his head and he takes her cue: his arms wrap around her waist before he lifts her off the floor, her legs snaking about his hips, and then finally her mouth meets his. 

Galavant crosses the room in large strides with ease, stopping only when her back hits the wall next to the bed, and Isabella gasps inside his mouth. He snickers, leaving her lips to trail fluttering kisses along her jaw line, nibbling on her earlobe, his hot breath sending tingles right down to her core, making her thighs twitch and clamp tighter around his hips. He hums lowly at his throat, lips now latched on her neck, sucking at her pulse point intently. Automatically, Isabella whimpers and bucks her hips, as Galavant almost simultaneously smacks his hands over her thighs, his long fingers digging firmly on her soft flesh, eliciting a shriek followed by a breathless laugh. “Sorry”, she smiled sheepishly at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Of all the things you should apologize to me for”, he whispered, mouth ghosting over hers, “that is most certainly _not_ one of them”. One of his hands slides to her back as his other arm safely secures around her waist as he pulls her away from the wall and lays her gently on the bed, hovering above her, searching her eyes.

“What?” she almost sounds annoyed.

“This is happening”, he spoke softly. “This is really happening”.

Galavant was stating it, but Isabella knew better. He was searching her eyes for confirmation. For permission. Her lips curved quickly up, as her hand reached up to cup his cheek.

“This is really happening”.

His wide smile never left his face even as he dipped his head down to kiss her again, as he braced himself on one arm while his other hand began to unfasten the strings on the front of her dress. Breaking the kiss and propping herself up, Isabella tugged her dress up above her head and tossed it across the room, arching one eyebrow up at him. Galavant stared at her astounded for a split second, before lowering her back onto the mattress, his eyes traveling up and down her almost completely bare body. He leaned closer and whispered: “You’re so beautiful”.

Her smile was tender. “You too”.

Galavant tilted his head to the side and gave a small shrug, eyes never leaving her chest, the most hateful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I know”.

“Why do you always have to say the most aggravati---oh” as her back arched when his lips closed around one nipple, a warm and damp tongue swirling languidly around it, teeth lightly scraping over as he suckled, while his free hand fondled her other breast, kneading the other nipple to a hard peak. Isabella quivered and whimpered softly, her small trembling fingers grasping his dark locks, not sure whether to tug him away or press him impossibly closer.

Galavant switched the focus of his ministrations and then started sliding lower, open-mouthed kisses all over her stomach, his beard tickling her skin until he reached the waistband of her thin undergarment.

“Even better than what I’ve imagined”, Galavant whispered as he hooked his thumbs on the thin strips and then peeled it off. “And I’ve imagined quite a bit, my lady”.

Isabella’s breath hitched as he nudged her legs apart, shifting back and rubbing his scruff on her silky inner thighs, soothing the immediate redness with wet brushes of his lips. She stiffened in anticipation as his face finally hovered over her slick flesh, eyes glued to his every move, reluctant to even blink.

Then he closed his eyes and inhaled, _deep_ , and as she squirmed he held her down firmly by her hips and crashed his mouth against her core.

Her back arched and she cried loud as everything else in the world seemed to blur around her, everything but him and the feeling of the long strokes of his tongue against her clit – slowly at first but picking up a steady and resolute pace soon enough, his obnoxious smirking face buried in her folds while she writhed and whimpered helplessly underneath him.

Galavant then shifted, bringing one of his hands down from her hips to gently brush her folds. Isabella was wet, so wet that he had no trouble inserting one finger and not so long after another, his thrusts in synch with his tongue and with the rocking of her hips.

He took his time, savoring her with his tongue and lips and preparing her with his skilled fingers, and it was too much, too much and not nearly enough for Isabella, even though she’s grasping at the sheets, even though she’s feeling her throat dry from all the moans, even though she might spontaneously combust or float away like a feather if he let her go right now.

But he didn’t; instead, he got determined and fastened his pace, his fingers thrusting harder and his tongue flicking faster, her hands leaving the sheets to dig her fingers in his scalp. It didn’t take long, after that, to take her over the edge and she just busted into fits of whimpers and laughter and shudder, white spots sparkling behind her eyes and her breath ragged, her trembling legs squeezing his head while he still left light kisses over her, before coming up to press his lips against hers.

They stayed like that for a while, his tongue coaxing her lips apart and Isabella tasting herself in his kiss, so _thrilling_. His hands roamed over her sides but other than that he didn’t move, and even though she knew there was more to… _this_ than _that_ , she didn’t trust herself to speak at the moment.

He pulled apart an inch to look at her, and she lifted one hand to brush a finger over his bottom lip. He smiled but then frowned, inhaling sharply. “We… don’t have to… if you don’t want to… you know… to actually do--”

“Galavant”. She cut him with a firm tone. “I’m not afraid. I want this. I want _you_ ”.

He snickered but she knew he was relieved. Bending to give her a quick peck, he whispered “okay” then slid back and off the bed. Propping herself on the elbows to watch him undo his trousers, she tried to shift the focus of her now _very_ apparent nervousness. “Maybe Sid wasn’t all delusional with that interlocking metal teeth thing”, she laughed anxiously.

“Or maybe I should’ve kept wearing those monk robes”, Galavant said as he finally slipped off his trousers. “You know, without my clothes underneath”.

Isabella didn’t drop her gaze from his eyes for a second but she could definitely feel her heart pounding inside her chest and the air getting thinner around her as he climbed back onto the bed. “I d-don’t think the m-monks would’ve allowed that”, she said, chuckling nervously. Galavant just hummed in agreement, smirking as he placed himself between her legs. But his eyes held a soft expression. “Are you still sure about this?”

“Yes.”

He kissed her then, fully, intently. Her arms encircled his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist in instinct, as he brushed the tip of his cock along her slick opening. Isabella whimpered inside his mouth in anticipation, but when he finally entered her, agonizingly slow, she gasped and cried loudly. “Galavant!”

He was already panting, the hair on his chest grazing her breasts, his arms trying to press her legs down on to the mattress.

“Do you want me to stop?” he said breathlessly.

“No. Please don’t”. She swallowed hard. “Don’t ever stop”.

He filled her gorgeously, deliciously stretching her walls as she slightly bucked her hips, wanting more, needing more, _all_ of him, albeit not sure how or if she could take it.

He kept still for a moment, waiting for her to adjust to him. She was so small, maybe if he wasn’t on top, maybe if he waited a little longer, did he take care of her or did she need more, was he hurting her or…

Isabella could hear him think so she did the only thing she could to bring him back: she rocked her hips, _vigorously_. Galavant groaned and chuckled, raising one eyebrow and then grabbing her by the hips, slamming into her, all the way. Her back arched as she moaned and let out a breathless little laugh, but soon enough caught rhythm and was meeting his thrusts, the sounds of gasps and moans and skin slapping against skin filling the room as Galavant increased his speed, teeth clasped on the spot where her neck met shoulder, sweat covering his body – both of their bodies – and Isabella was feeling another pressure building up inside her; this one felt more urgent, more primeval, more… no, she couldn’t think straight, not with him frantically pounding into her, moaning hoarsely in her ear, her name tumbling from his lips like a chanting, as if nothing else existed in the world.

And for a moment that was absolutely true; the moment when his thrusts became erratic and his growling louder, when he shifted just a bit but he managed to hit that spot just right and she clamped around him, ecstatic, when right after he stilled above and spilled inside her, and she was completely sure she wouldn’t be able to get off the bed in the morning but that was fine. She was his and he was hers, in every way possible now, and no one could take that away from her.

From them.

Until he collapsed on top of her and she smacked him right before he almost knocked all air out of her lungs.

“Sorry”, he chortled and rolled on his back, bringing her over with him.

“That’s alright”, she said, stroking his chest. “I think overall you’ve outdone yourself tonight, so I wouldn’t worry about this minor slip”.

His laughter rumbled on his chest. “Good to know I did not disappoint you, my lady”.

Isabella shifted, leaning on her elbow to look at him. “You never did”, she said softly, smiling. “And tonight was no exception”.

Galavant lifted one hand to cup her cheek, and brought her lips down to meet his, then Isabella laid back next to him, with her nose buried on the crook of his neck, palm flat against his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart, finally feeling the tiredness of her muscles getting the best of her, blinking (or at least trying to) back the sleep that’s threatening to overcome her. “I’m so tired”, she yawns. “I don’t think I’ll even snore tonight”.

Galavant chuckles softly, rubbing her back. “Is that right?”

But as she drifts off into slumber, she does. Of course she does.

And he follows her shortly after.

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled with writing this, not going to lie. Those two are hard to write! But I'm quite satisfied with it. There's smut but there's fluff as well. Smuff is never enough, now is it?  
> Oh, the title comes from a song by The Reign of Kindo - one of my favorites. By the way, I always seem to name my fics after their songs... *shrugs*


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